


How Many Does It Take?

by occamysRazor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occamysRazor/pseuds/occamysRazor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many people does it take to screw in a light bulb? As it turns out, one hunter and one very not-flustered angel. "Castiel was pretty sure he knew how to screw in a light bulb. Like, 85 percent sure. Or 80."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Does It Take?

Castiel was pretty sure he knew how to screw in a light bulb. Like, 85 percent sure. Or 80. He hadn't really needed any light bulbs in Heaven, what with all the 'everlasting light' pouring all over the place.

He did know that the metal bit went inside the hole and then you twisted it a certain way. What was it that Dean said? 'Lefty loosey, righty tighty?' What good did it do to know that Lucy was left-handed? He would have paid more attention, but he had been too busy admiring the soft gold glow of the elder Winchester's soul. Why did they need a new light when Dean was enough to illuminate the whole room?

The angel stood precariously on a chair, not quite able to reach the chandelier. He tried using his wings as a counterbalance, but it was no use, and he started to—

“Woah! You okay, there?”

He looked down at Dean, the human's face betraying his amusement. Cas tried to ignore the hands holding his legs steady and said, “You said I could try and you would not laugh at me.”

“I'm not laughing,” Dean said, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.

Cas let out a small huff of air and examined the light bulb, brow furrowed childishly. “How?”

Dean bit his tongue to keep the snicker inside. “Here's what you do,” he explained, nudging the angel to one side of the chair. “Stay up here so you can see.” He climbed up onto the chair beside him. After grabbing Cas's waist for support, he reached up an arm and said, “Now, you put this end—the metal end—up in the socket, and then you twist the bulb to the right, counter-clockwise, if you'd like. And then... ta-da!” The light flared suddenly, casting shadows on Dean's face. “Y'see?”

Castiel nodded and his cheek rubbed against the soft fabric of Dean's shirt. He was impressed at the ingenuity of such a device and wondered how exactly it had come to be. One thing he was _not_ doing, however, was noticing how close he was to the hunter in front of him. Or how warm the steady beats of his nearby heart made him. Or how he smelled like metal and leather and Impala and _Dean..._

“Cas? Cas?”

He looked up, startled from his non-thoughts.

“You sorta dozed off for a second.”

Cas shook his head to clear it. “I am fine.” He reluctantly started to climb from their perch, but the chair wobbled dangerously and Dean pulled him back up. Clearly, the slightest change in weight would have them toppling down.

“So,” Dean asked after a moment when they reclaimed their balance, “How are we gonna get down?”


End file.
